Not Anymore
by half agony and hope
Summary: A disturbing case forces Jane to examine his future and his plans for himself and Lisbon.


**Hello Mentalistas! In honor of the holidays and the upcoming premiere, here's a slightly angsty/mostly fluffy Jane x Lisbon fic. Hope you enjoy it-and the premiere!**

**This contains a reference to the first episode of the seventh season, which already aired in Canada-just a head's up for those who want to remain spoiler-free.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist.**

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The teacup remained where she'd left it for him on the edge of her desk, untouched and now lukewarm. He stood next to his couch, facing the window, and the darkening clouds outside seemed to vibrate with the promise of the coming storm. They shook with energy—the same nervous energy she sensed in Jane.

Lisbon made her way across the empty bullpen, grateful for the lull in their case which had provided the team an excuse to head home at a respectable hour. Though barely past five o'clock, the charcoal clouds gave the appearance of a far later hour. Her footsteps echoed behind her, announcing her presence, but Jane didn't turn. Instead, his eyes remained fixed on the city outside, awaiting the storm. When she appeared beside him, mimicking his stance, she felt rather than saw his posture relax infinitesimally.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked back.

"You want to talk about today," she said. It wasn't a question.

Jane fidgeted with his hands for a few seconds then stuffed them into his pockets. His eyes returned to the window, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Tired of only being able to see Jane's profile, Lisbon shifted, her back now to the window and shoulders squarely aligned with his. She took in his face for the first time since seeing him earlier today and was surprised to find sadness etched there. Sometimes, Jane was far too competent at manipulating feelings, including his own. It had, however, been a long time since Jane had put up an emotional façade, hiding his feelings from her—as he had apparently been doing all afternoon. It didn't take long for Lisbon to figure out what had triggered it.

"The victim at the crime scene," hedged Lisbon quietly. "She reminded you…of Charlotte?"

They'd been working a case nearly nonstop for the past month. Four victims, including the child they'd found today, and very likely more, presumably the work of a serial killer. All of them had been discovered in public places, and all had been found with a single white rose in their hands. They all also appeared in perfect health—besides the fact that they were obviously dead. The team still hadn't figured out cause of death for any of the victims. Lisbon was confounded, having never seen anything like it, but a week ago Jane had called to her attention similarities to a previous case they'd worked together. A case he much would have preferred to forget. Jane had, of course, been referring to their hunt for Red John, and Lisbon finally began to understand the similarities while she stared at Jane's distressed face. More than anything, both cases had traumatized him. Normally, Jane could read a killer faster than Cho could classic literature—but with these two cases, he was always a step behind.

Jane blinked, resolutely staring at Lisbon's left shoulder. "Her eyes," he offered. "They were Charlotte's eyes."

Lisbon's face blanched. "Oh my God, Jane…" she trailed off, wondering what in the world she was supposed to say. She decided on nothing and instead intertwined their fingers. He squeezed her hand.

A minute passed, and then another. "I'm so sorry," Lisbon said finally. Jane inched closer, gripped her other hand, and leaned his head down so that his forehead lightly touched her own.

"Can we just…" he started, his voice breaking. Lightning flashed outside, and the downpour began.

"Stay here for a while?" Lisbon finished. Thunder crashed.

Jane closed his eyes and nodded, his nose nudging hers.

The storm surged on around them, but Lisbon and Jane stood still. Lisbon didn't attempt to conceal the moisture in her eyes; Jane's pain was hers as well.

After a long time, or possibly no time at all, Jane pulled back and kissed Lisbon's forehead. They locked eyes again, and Lisbon was pleased to see a new resolve there.

"I have a plan," Jane said simply, and Lisbon noticed his nervous energy returning.

Lisbon's brow furrowed. Rain continued to pound the window behind her. "You have a plan to catch the killer—and you thought of it just now?"

"Wrong on both counts, my dear."

"Then please do inform me of your master plan, whatever it is."

Jane became solemnly serious. "When we first started dating, Pike asked me if I had a plan for you—he wanted to know what I could offer you besides myself. Besides Patrick Jane."

Lisbon nodded, remembering the incident all too well.

"Well," Jane continued, "I've known for a long time my plan is to make you happy. I'm offering you everything I have in order to do that."

Lisbon stared at him. "That sounds like a pretty good plan to me."

Jane paused. "Here's the thing though, Lisbon—I can't offer you everything while I'm here."

"I don't follow."

"You deserve the world, Lisbon. A picket fence, a kid, a dog…all of that. Or none of it, if that's what you want. But I don't think I can make you happy in the future if I'm constantly being reminded of my past. And that's what is going to keep happening if I continue to consult for major crimes. I'm going to keep being pulled back down the rabbit hole, so to speak, and you're not going to like the person that emerges."

"You want to quit the FBI," Lisbon clarified.

Jane's eyes wandered as he thought, wondering how to elaborate. "I feel like an addict, Lisbon. My hunt for Red John nearly killed me—it would have if not for you—and I already know that this case has the same pull. I need to stop before it consumes me." His voice cracked, and he squeezed her hands again. "I need to move on, Lisbon."

Lisbon nodded, convinced. "Okay."

Jane pulled back, his surprise evident. "'Okay'?" he asked, unconvinced. "This is seriously alright with you?"

Lisbon extracted her hands from his and instead used them to frame his face. "My plan for you," she said, "is to make you happy. I want that more than anything." She smiled. "So I'm going with you."

He caught her wrists in his hands as confusion once again graced his features. "What?"

Lisbon spoke slowly, carefully choosing her words. "I wouldn't trade my years as a cop for anything," she said. "I put lots of bad people away, brought closure to families…and I met you. But…"

"But…" Jane prompted.

"But this work comes with suffering, and hurt, and grief. Since you and I…you know…became _us_, I've felt truly happy, content…loved. Now that I know what our lives are capable of becoming, I don't want that suffering to haunt us. Not anymore."

She let that sink in before continuing. "We've been working homicides for a long time, Jane. It's time to let someone else handle the burden. Look at the team we have here—Cho will make a great senior agent, and Wylie and Vega have come so far already. I think they're more than capable of forging on without us."

Jane grinned and looked away, at a loss for words.

"You don't have to live your life alone, Jane."

"Not anymore." He smiled.

"Not anymore," Lisbon echoed. He kissed her gently, then Lisbon pulled back and ran her fingers through his disheveled hair. Smiling back at him, she grabbed his hand once more and led him away from the window, which was still being battered by rain.

He put his arm around her shoulder, she put hers around his waist, and together they walked out of the bullpen.

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**Hope you enjoyed it! As always, any errors are mine.**


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